


Bloody Hell

by wood_originals



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: F/M, Menstrual Sex, Menstruation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25721209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wood_originals/pseuds/wood_originals
Summary: Chibs isn't bothered by a little bit of blood.
Relationships: Tara Knowles/Chibs Telford
Kudos: 23





	Bloody Hell

**Author's Note:**

> I picked that title as a joke, but then it stuck, and now I don't know what else to call it. Also I just think it's funny.

“You alright?” Chibs said, spotting Tara on the couch. She was curled up against the arm of the worn leather sofa, resting her head in her hand.

She smiled up at him ruefully, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

Chibs frowned, wandering over to her. He held out his hand, waiting for permission, and when she nodded with a laugh, he pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. “No fever.”

“I’m not sick, it’s just… that time, for me,” Tara said, not embarrassed herself so much as embarrassed for him, knowing how men usually cringed away from the topic. How Jax kept his distance. “It gives me a headache, sometimes.”

“Ahh,” Chibs said sympathetically, sitting down beside her on the couch and patting at her leg. “M’sorry about that. Fiona used to get pains so bad, she could barely stand up. At least Jax can help you out with that.”

Tara laughed a little again, shaking her head. She loved Jax, and he was good in so many ways, but this was not one of them.

Chibs hand squeezed her leg, and she glanced over at him. His eyebrows were pressed close together, mouth twisted up. When he spoke, his voice was low, “Don’t mean to pry if you don’t want to say, but are you telling me he doesn’t fuck you when you’re… y’know?”

The club knew so many things about Tara that she wished they didn’t. They knew what she looked like when she had been in high school. They knew about the scratch marks she left on Jax’s back sometimes, when she wasn’t careful and they showed past his collar. They knew about the anger that lived inside her, that sometimes came out through punches or gun shots, though she tried to hide it.

This didn’t feel like a secret. She knew the guys talked about sex to a point, even Jax, and if he could do it, why couldn’t she? “He can’t stand it,” she said honestly, pressing her hand over her mouth as she looked over at Chibs, grinning a little. “You’d think, the amount of blood he sees in his work with the club, it wouldn’t bother him so much, but it does.”

“Ah, that ain’t right,” Chibs said solemnly, shaking his head. Tara couldn’t help but giggle, and he flashed a quick grin back at her. “C’mon, why don’t you go lay down in the dark? No one’s in Jax’s old room.”

He offered her his hand, and she took it, letting him pull her up from the couch with a wince. “I know where it is,” she said, teasing, as he walked her back to the bedroom.

She walked into the room, sitting down at the end of the bed. The light from the windows was dim, and Chibs hovered in the doorway for a moment. Tara could see he was building up to say something, so she stayed quiet and waited.

“I could… give you a hand,” Chibs said eventually. He cleared his throat, and shifted his weight between his feet. “Never mind. That wasn’t right of me to say.” He turned to leave.

“Wait,” Tara said quickly, standing up again. Chibs stilled, and then turned around. She offered him a shy smile. “Come in? Close the door, it’s okay, I won’t bite.”

“You know how it’s gonna look if I close this door right now?” Chibs warned in that low voice. He stood in the doorway, hand resting on the handle.

“I mean, you _were_ offering to fuck me, weren’t you?” Tara said, raising an eyebrow at him, her cheeks pink. “No matter how bad it might look to close that door, I imagine it would definitely look worse if we kept it open.”

Chibs laughed, one side of his mouth twisting up in a devilish grin before he took a step in, closing the door behind him.

Tara had a hard time understanding the club at times. She never really knew what the men were to each other, Jax and his Brothers. A family? A team? Coworkers, or friends? All of the above?

In that moment, she saw them as one whole being. Different bodies creating a patchwork of abilities, of wants and needs, of wills and won’ts. Someone was always there to pick up where things left off, to fill in a gap or provide a service. They made sure the work got done, one way or another.

Maybe that was why it felt okay to invite Chibs into the room with her.

Or maybe there wasn’t a reason, and Chibs was just willing, and handsome, and there.

He walked her back into the room until her legs hit the end of the bed, reaching out and putting his hands on her hips. She pressed her hands against his chest, resting on the front of his leather jacket.

“Rules?” he asked simply, pressing his body up against hers.

He smelled like the club house, almost like Jax. It took her a second before she got her breath back and said, “No kissing. Wear a condom. And let me tell Jax.”

“Sounds good to me, love,” he said.

The first thing that came off was his jacket. The reaper was left draped over a chair, to watch over them. Chibs pulled off her top next, then her fingers went for his belt. The quiet laughter between them was gone, replaced by a frantic need, a burning in her fingertips and in the pit of her stomach, an ache that wanted to be filled.

“Are you sure—” Chibs.

“Did I stutter?” Tara.

The sharp tear of a condom wrapper. Tara watched him roll it onto himself easily, saw all the ways his cock was different from Jax’s, uncircumcised and a little thicker. Saw how he was hard for her, though she could smell her own blood hot between her legs, and even in the dim light from the windows she could see the stretch marks like battle scars on her stomach.

She left her bra on and he left his undershirt on, but there was still so much heat pulsing between their bodies. When she was finally on her back, Chibs settled between her spread legs, she had to close her eyes for a minute because everything felt like too much.

He saw her and waited, one hand brushing up her inner thigh, resting at the spot where her leg met the rest of her. His thumb brushed against the soft brown thatch of hair, and her face burned.

“You’re perfect,” he said, stated as a fact, voice so low it almost felt like a rumble.

She opened her eyes. He held himself over her with one hand, a few strands of hair falling into his face, the soft light from the windows casting shadows over his face, the lines of his scars. His chest moved with his breath, and he waited for her.

She nodded, biting her lip, and when he pushed into her, she had to bring her hand up to her mouth to muffle the moan. He moved slow, steady, filling her up until he was fully hilted inside her. They both paused for a breath, but then she reached forward, grabbing at his shoulder with her free hand, one of her legs hooking around him, and he started to move.

He fucked her, rough, and it was exactly what she needed. He was panting above her, one hand firm on her hip, and she knew that while he wasn’t going to leave any marks on her skin, she was going to feel him inside her long after he pulled out.

She whined, biting down on her pointer finger to keep herself quiet. She rocked her hips up against him, her back arching, and she could hear the bedframe shuddering against the wall in time with his thrusts, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Couldn’t even remember the face of the prospect behind the bar that day.

She could feel the heat building inside her, her toes curling, and she dug her fingers into his shoulder, caught his eye as she tightened around him.

He grunted, slamming into her again, and again. “Go on, then,” he said, words rolling together in his accent, but she understood him just fine.

Her orgasm came over her in waves, crashing over the whole of her body in wild, shaking motions, and he fucked her through it. Pleasure flooded through her, and she could feel herself clenching around him as he came, too, groaning and swearing, right as she started to feel herself come back to her body.

His last few thrusts felt so good they almost hurt, ached, and her skin was starting to feel oversensitive, his fingers burning instead of just warm, his breath a physical touch against her skin.

He fell on his back beside her and they were left panting, staring up at the familiar ceiling. She could feel the wet spot underneath her, the coppery smell of blood mixed with the musk of sex heavy in the air. She looked over and watched him pull the condom off, tying the end and tossing it in the general direction of the garbage.

When he met her eye this time, he said, “Boy doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Tara laughed, sated and warm and comfortable.


End file.
